Whatever It Takes
by mockingjayfelicis
Summary: "Mags, please..." Her voice was fierce but mine is small. Pleading. Desperate. "She has to win. I have to get her out of there. And I'll do whatever it takes. No matter what."
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello! I was delighted with the reception of my last fanfic, My Annie. Thank you so much if you reviewed it, or favourited it or added it to your alerts. Very much appreciated, and I'm glad you enjoyed it! This is the first chapter of my new fic, Whatever It Takes. It's another FinnickXAnnie story, and it will be a bit longer than My Annie which I'm happy about. Unlike My Annie which alternated between Finnick and Annie's point of view, Whatever It Takes will be written purely from Finnick's point of view because I discovered I liked that best while writing My Annie. Please leave a review, I'd love to hear what you think! The next chapter will be posted soon :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins.**

I quietly open the door, hoping to slip into the luxury Capitol apartment that we share for now unnoticed. It's the early hours of the morning, and with any luck everyone will have gone to bed.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Mags is standing in the living area with her hands on her hips. She's old, but she's certainly not weak. She's not afraid to pick a fight, or tell people what she really thinks. The District 4 escort, Tallulah Vincent, with her bubblegum pink hair and gold stencilled skin is settled on the leather couch, tucking into a tray full of what are no doubt liquer chocolates. Her eyes with their unnaturally long electric blue lashes are fixated on the large screen in front of her, which is playing footage from the 70th Hunger Games, which are happening right now. Right at this very minute, those Tributes are trapped, fighting to the death in a man-made arena, only a short Hovercraft flight away from here. The District 4 stylists are nowhere to be seen.

"Out." I answer shortly. I take my jacket off and hang it up on the coat stand beside the door.

"Don't give me that garbage, I know exactly where you've been - you've been trying to buy that girl Sponsors!"

"Annie needs food, Mags."

"She has food!"

"She can't live on berries," I say loudly and firmly. Then my tone quietens. "What's to stop her picking a poisonous one and dying? The only fruit back home is tropical, Annie won't have a clue which berries are safe and which aren't. So I got her some bread."

I cross the room to the telephone. My entrance hasn't affected Tallulah's viewing, as she's still as transfixed on the killing match as ever. Not so much as a "hello" or even a smile. It's sickening how much the Capitol citizens immerse themselves in the Games.

I lift the receiver and dial the number to get in contact with the Gamemakers. The number is printed on a silver plaque on the wall above the phone but I've dialled it so many times already this year that I've learned it by heart. I unfold the piece of paper that I've kept hidden in my hand since I came back.

A cool, female voice greets me.

"You've reached the Sponsor Hotline of the 70th Annual Hunger Games. Please state your name and district."

"Finnick Odair. District 4."

"Thank you, Mr Odair. Which Tribute do you wish to send aid to?"

I swallow. I have to close my eyes to stop them from watering.

"Annie Cresta," I sigh. Saying her name is painful. How I wish she was here with me now.

"And what do you wish to send Annie?"

"A loaf of bread. Fresh bread, that was baked recently."

"Certainly, Mr Odair. Please state the name of Annie's Sponsor and their billing address."

I squint my eyes at the scrap of paper I'm holding and try to make out the woman's handwriting.

"Uh... Cecilia Marchbanks. 3759 Lavender Way."

"Thank you, Mr Odair. A fresh loaf of bread is on its way to Annie as we speak. Happy Hunger Games!"

I hang up the phone without a word. I toss the piece of paper into the fireplace. It's one of those fancy silver Capitol ones that are built into the wall.

"Well, well. First a knife, then matches, now a loaf of bread. What's next? A sleeping bag? Don't think I don't know how you're getting all this, Finnick. You've hardly been in here since the Bloodbath ended."

"Ssh!" Tallulah hisses, waving her hand frantically at Mags, still not taking her eyes off the screen. Mags makes a very rude gesture at her turned head.

"Mags, please..." Her voice was fierce but mine is small. Pleading. Desperate. "She has to win. I have to get her out of there. And I'll do whatever it takes. No matter what."

Mags sighs. She calms down and her tone becomes sympathetic. She looks directly into my tear-filled eyes.

"I told you not to get attached, Finnick. Do you honestly think anything good can come out of this?"

I nod as a single tear runs down my cheek. "I have to," I whisper. "I have to believe that everything will be okay."

Mags' eyes start to water. She extends her arms and holds me in a warm hug as I let the tears escape my eyes.

"Sweet boy," she mutters.

"I don't like it when we fight, Mags."

"I don't either," she pulls away and holds my hand. We both smile at each other. There is a moment of silence before Tallulah gasps.

"Annie's bread is coming!" she shrieks.

Mags and I rush to the couch and sit down, still holding hands.

Annie is on the screen. She's huddled under a small cave on a mountainside. It looks damp and cold. She's shivering, and crying. Her arms are wrapped around her knees, and she's rocking gently back and forward. She's murmuring the name 'Luca' over and over again, so quiet it's barely audible. I have to bring my hand up to my mouth. Luca was the name of the male Tribute from District 4. He was only twelve years old, and last night, Annie watched him being decapitated by the boy from District 1. It pains me beyond compare to see her so scared, so fragile, so vulnerable.

There is a faint jingling noise. Annie takes a sharp intake of breath, her eyes go wide, and she scans her surroundings for threats. She smiles faintly when she realises that the noise is coming from a small, silver parachute gliding down towards her. When it reaches the ground, her shaking hands reach out to unclasp it. She sees the bread, and looks up at the sky.

"Thank you, Finnick," she whispers.

"You're welcome, Annie." I reply under my breath.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews that have already been posted! Please keep them coming, I love hearing what you think :)**

Several days have passed since Annie received her bread. The Games are drawing to a close. For this year, at least. There are only five Tributes left, including Annie. I must admit, I'm astounded that she's made it this far. No one ever expected her to. Not even Annie herself. Especially not Annie herself.

No one would have counted her as a front-runner. She received a pretty average score in training. She was quiet throughout her interview with Caesar Flickerman, and she spent most of the Tribute Parade trying not to burst into tears. Yet here she is. Annie, in the final five. For the first time since she entered the arena, I allow myself to imagine her homecoming. She could do it. She could actually do it. She could actually win this thing.

But I musn't let myself get carried away. She isn't safe yet and there are still four Tributes, not to mention a gang of bloodthirsty Gamemakers, who want her dead. And she isn't the fastest, or the strongest either. So I have to help her out as much as I can.

Last night I sent a flask of chicken soup into the arena for her. I remember her commenting on how much she liked it during our last dinner together before the Games started. That was the 11th Sponsor I had rounded up for her. The night before that, I sent her some gloves, because I noticed she kept breathing onto her palms and rubbing them together to try and keep them warm. Before that, it was ointment for her scratched skin, before that, it was a bottle of water that was ready to be drunk immediately, and before that, it was a slice of cottage pie because I thought her body would be running low on protein.

She's received the most Sponsors out of all the Tributes, dead or alive. They weren't easy to get. And I certainly didn't enjoy earning them. But I would do it all over again if it meant Annie could come home.

"Who's left?" asks Mags, joining Tallulah, the stylists and I in the living area, since the District 4 stylists, Leena and Sebastien, ate lunch with us and decided to stay for some viewing.

"The boy from 1, the boy from 5, the boy from 9, the girl from 10, and Annie," Tallulah informs her.

"According to _Cha Cha _magazine, the boy from One is the favourite to win," smiles Leena, setting down a copy of a colourful and gaudy looking magazine on the coffee table. I feel anger bubble inside me.

"Don't you want Annie to win?" I ask her through gritted teeth.

Leena sings a note of laughter and dismisses me with her hand. "Oh, Finnick darling, of course I want Annie to win, but we all know she's not going to. I could tell she wasn't from the moment her chariot was released in the Parade. Hardly oozing confidence, was she?"

I struggle to keep my voice calm. "Maybe that's because the only thing covering her breasts was a pair of large sea shells."

Leena takes a swig of champagne. "It was a _costume_, Finnick! A costume that represented District 4. And what with District 4's main industry being fishing, I thought a mermaid would be the _perfect _costume for their female Tribute."

"You thought wrong," I say firmly. "Annie was embarrassed and uncomfortable, anyone could see that."

"Oh hush, hush, Finnick, it's a television show, for goodness' sake! The girl has a nice body. If only she wasn't so frigid, then she might have actually enjoyed showing herself off."

I can't control myself any longer. I stand up, my fists clenched. How dare she talk about Annie like that. How dare she talk about her like she's nothing more than a piece of dirt who doesn't matter to anyone.

Mags places her soft hand on my arm.

"Finnick..." she mutters quietly. I look at her. "Sit down."

Leena, Sebastien and Tallulah stare at me for a few seconds before I take a deep breath and sit down again beside Mags. There is no more talking. Only the sound from the footage playing on the screen.

Suddenly it starts. The rumbling. Deep at first, but then steadily gets louder, and louder...

"What is that?" Sebastien asks.

No one answers him.

Then the camera that's filming inside the arena shakes from side to side, so the footage dances around the screen.

An earthquake. In the arena. Could this be natural? Most likely not. The Gamemakers probably created it. They were sick of waiting for another kill so they sent this earthquake in to speed things up a bit. That's it. That's what's happening.

Panic overcomes me. I'm clutching my hair, my eyes are watering. Mags has a solemn look on her face. Tallulah gasps. Leena eagerly drains her champagne glass and almost smashes it down on the table. Sebastien is emotionless.

"Please be safe, Annie..." I whisper. I hope she can hear me, wherever she is in that arena. "Please don't die..."

Trees are falling over and crushing everything that stands in their way. I can only hope that Annie isn't trapped underneath them.

Then the shaking camera cuts to the wide river. The current is flowing faster than I've ever seen it. The waves are strong and unforgivable. Anyone caught up in them will surely die.

There is a loud bang as the waves suddenly force themselves through the large dam, exploding it, and sending a shower of bricks raining over the arena. I can't hold in my tears any longer. Mags has stopped watching and has her face buried in her hands. Tallulah, Leena and Sebastien are clutching hands, all looking as though they might faint at any second.

Where is Annie? Why aren't they showing the Tributes struggling to stay alive? If only I could see her, if only I knew she was okay for the time being...

"Is that Annie?" Mags points at the screen.

I gasp and my eyes go wide. There's a girl thashing around in the midst of the waves. She's coughing and spluttering, and struggling to stay afloat. She wipes the soaked hair out of her face and her eyes pop open.

"No," I gulp. "It's the girl from 10."

The current pulls her down the river. She screams for help, but she's weakening. Suddenly, her face and arms disappear below the water. And then the canon booms.

Before anyone can say anything, there's another yell, and two boys swim into view. They're trying hard, but the waves are too big, too violent for them. They choke, wave their arms and kick their legs, but their efforts are worthless. In a matter of seconds they're dragged underneath the surface, just like the girl from 10 was. The one on the right goes under first. The canon sounds. The one on the left lets out a final yell before succumbing to the river. The canon sounds again. Three Tributes dead in less than a minute.

"There's only two left!" exclaims Tallulah. "Annie, and the boy from One!"

Only two Tributes left. Annie. I stand up and move closer to the screen.

"Come on, Annie..." I breathe. "Come on..."

And then I see her, and she's fighting the waves, actually fighting them! She's swimming, swimming well, swimming strongly. Of course. Kids from District 4 learn to swim before they can walk. District 4 citizens are the best swimmers in Panem. She could make it!

Behind her, the boy from District 1 is splashing around, trying to find his bearings. He's tall, and physically powerful, but Annie is beating him! Little Annie, who no one expected to win, is beating a Career Tribute! And he's the last one left, if only he drowned like the others...

His mouth fills with water and he has a coughing fit, while trying to wipe the murky water out of his eyes. Annie is still swimming a few feet in front of him. She's slowed down slightly, but her movements are precise. Her legs are kicking in rhythm. Her arms break the water at an even pace. She's coping.

There's a cry before the crashing waves take the boy. The canon sounds. That's it. It's over. She's won.

"She did it..." I gasp, bringing my shaking hands up to my face. I can't believe it.

The anthem rings out around the large room. The river sinks back to its usual height and calm state. Annie treads water until she finds the bank and climbs out. She's shivering and crying.

"Ladies and gentleman!" roars the voice of Claudius Templesmith.

Annie's head snaps up, looking for the source of the voice.

"May I present the winner of the 70th Hunger Games - ANNIE CRESTA!"


	3. Chapter 3

"She did it..." I whisper again.

Mags is smiling from ear to ear.

Tallulah and Leena let out a screech of happiness. Sebastien whistles an energetic melody. The three of them embrace and immediately top up their champagne glasses.

"Another Victor from District 4!" Tallulah beams. "To Annie!"

"To Annie!" Leena and Sebastien chime, raising their glasses.

I can't take my eyes off the screen. Annie has her arms wrapped around herself. She must be freezing, standing there in those drenched clothes with her soaked hair. She looks so lost and scared. I want to find her, hold her, tell her everything's going to be okay and that she never has to go back to that horrible place again.

The Hovercraft drifts into view and starts to lower. It lands on the bank of the river. Finally. She's coming home.

I feel Mags' hand on my back.

"We have to go," she says.

I swallow. "Right."

Before I can say anything else, Mags is guiding me across the apartment and out the door, leaving Tallulah and the stylists to their celebrations. It's protocol for the mentors from the winning district to meet the Victor when they step out of the Hovercraft and arrive back in the Capitol. It's a very emotional moment. And televised, of course.

We step into the elevator and press the button to take us down to the ground floor. I can feel fresh tears brewing but I know there will be cameras and a crowd waiting for us in the lobby, so I try my hardest to remain composed. Mags senses this and holds my hand in hers.

"Annie will be fine," she smiles gently.

"But what if she's not?" I ask.

"What do you mean?"

"You saw what she went through in that arena. You're not seriously telling me she's going to be the same person walking out as she was going in?"

Mags pauses.

"Trauma can do strange things to people, Finnick. But know that no matter what unusual things she says, or unusual things she does... underneath it all, she's still Annie."

"Still Annie." I repeat quietly.

There's a ding and the elevator door slides open. We step out and are met by a bustling crowd of excited photographers, babbling reporters, nosy journalists and manic Capitol citizens. Camera flashes blind me, dictophones are held up to my face and I can't work out how we will be able to get past everyone.

"I'm Julian Perriwinkle reporting live from the Training Centre, where District 4 mentors Finnick Odair and Margaret Sullivan are on their way to greet this year's Victor of The Hunger Games, Annie Cresta..."

"Finnick, you sent an extremely large amount of Sponsors to Annie during the Games, why was this?"

"Another female Victor from District 4! Mags, you must be very happy! Any comments on Annie's performance in the arena?"

"Finnick, are you and Annie Cresta involved in a romantic relationship?"

Mags and I say nothing, yet the journalists continue to scribble frantically in their notepads and the crowd's screams do not quieten.

"Let them through, please!"

A large, bald security guard is creating a small pathway amongst the crowd. I take the first steps forward, Mags following behind me. Women cry and reach out to stroke my hair, face, arm, anything.

"I SAID, LET THEM THROUGH!" the guard bellows. "You can all have your photos and interviews after Miss Cresta returns!"

Eventually we make it through the mob of people.

"Mr Odair, Mrs Sullivan," the guard nods at us. "If you'd like to follow me."

We're lead through the Training Centre, out of a pair of guarded doors at the rear side, and onto a large meadow of bright green grass. It's empty except for a small camera crew.

"Miss Cresta's hovercraft is due to land in approximately three minutes," the guard tells us.

"Thank you," I reply.

He nods again before heading back inside.

Three minutes. 180 seconds. Not long, really. But today, it feels like an eternity.

We stand in silence, waiting for her. Waiting for Annie.

The hovercraft lands a few feet away from us. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. My hands tremble, my eyes water. She's almost home.

The wide, silver door extends from the hovercraft like a drawbridge, and lands on the meadow at an angle, creating a ramp. Some Capitol officials exit first, talking quietly between themselves. Then I see her.

Annie. Still wearing her drenched clothes, but wrapped in a blue towel. Her hair is dripping, her face is pale.

"ANNIE!"

She looks up, sees me, and bursts into tears. I run past Mags, past the camera crew, as she runs down the ramp.

"Annie!" I cry again, but quieter this time.

I automatically wrap my arms around her, as tightly as I can. She sobs into my chest, shaking in my arms. I can't believe she's here. I never thought she'd make it back.

"It's okay, Annie..." I soothe, supporting the back of her head with my hand. "You're safe now."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews so far! If you have any suggestions about what you'd like to happen in this fanfic, feel free to let me know, as I don't really have a plan for Whatever It Takes, I'm just kind of going with it :) I only have one rule - Finnick cannot die!**

Mags leads us and I shield Annie through the waiting crowd back in the lobby of the Training Centre. The vast number of people cheering and screaming her name startles her. She gasps and freezes.

"Don't worry," I say in her ear so she can hear me above all the noise. "They're not going to hurt you, I'm here."

She looks at me and nods and lets me guide her towards the elevators.

"Congratulations, Annie!"

"So are you two a couple now or what?"

"Annie, you're the only Victor who didn't kill anyone in the arena, how does that make you feel?"

"Annie! Annie! Look here, sweetcheeks, smile for the camera!"

"BACK OFF!" I yell, knocking a photographer's camera out of his hand. His expression is murderous. "Leave her alone, she's in shock!"

"She's just won The Hunger Games!" the photographer whines childishly, as though this is an excuse for his behaviour.

"Exactly! She needs food and rest, you can talk to her later."

The photographer tuts and picks up his broken camera off the floor.

"And the rest of you, MOVE!" I shout, as more people start to reach for Annie. Some wave pens and paper at her, begging for her autograph. Others just want to touch her.

"You heard the man, fuck off!" Mags bellows. I am taken aback at her swearing. I should have learned by now to never underestimate Mags. "And you, son, better take that stupid camera of yours and run before I stick it somewhere the sun doesn't shine!"

Annie gives a quiet giggle. It is heartwarming to see her show the slightest sign of happiness after what she's been through.

Finally, the three of us make it to the elevator. The doors close and we start rising to our floor.

"Come here, you," Mags says softly.

She takes a sodden Annie in her arms and hugs her lovingly. Annie starts to cry. Mags makes sushing sounds as I slowly draw circles on Annie's upper back with my palm.

"It will get better, little one. I know it doesn't seem like it yet, but trust me. Trust me and Finnick."

Annie slowly withdraws from Mags' hold and wipes her tears.

"I do," she nods. "I do trust both of you."

The three of us share a smile and hold hands.

"We're family now," says Mags.

She brings Annie's hand up to her mouth and kisses the back of it, and then does the same to mine.

The elevator dings at the doors open. We walk out of it and enter our apartment, my arm around Annie. Tallulah, Leena and Sebastien greet us with charged glasses of champagne and a cheer.

"Annie! Annie, my darling!" cries Tallulah. She kisses both of Annie's cheeks as though she had just returned from a weekend city trip away. "Oh my goodness, you're freezing!"

"I'll get her some more towels and dry clothes," says Mags. "Come on, dear."

I kiss Annie's head.

"I'll be right out here, okay?"

Annie nods and gives me a small smile. Then I release her and Mags takes her to the bathroom, leaving me alone with Tallulah and the stylists.

"You must be glad, Finnick," Leena says in a flirtatious tone, handing me a glass of champagne. "Now you can finally ask her out."

I am overcome with disgust. Annie barely made it out of that arena. She watched people die, she was hungry and cold and tired for weeks, and all Leena can think about is me being able to take her on a date?

"I'm just glad she's alive," I reply in a semi-calm tone. "I certainly won't be taking advantage of her by asking her out while she's still in this fragile state."

I put down the glass of champagne. Tallulah, Leena and Sebastien, being Capitol citizens, are celebrating Annie's victory. But to Annie, Mags, and I, they are celebrating the death of 23 children.

"You might want to get rid of that champagne. I don't think Annie will appreciate it very much."

"Do you have any idea how much this costs, Finnick?" asks Sebastien. "You'd have thought you would, judging on how much time you spend in the Capitol these days."

I immediately begin to feel uneasy. I decide it's best not to argue back.

A few unbearable minutes later, Annie and Mags emerge from the bathroom. Annie's skin and hair is dry, and she's wearing a warm, fluffy dressing gown and slippers. She's stopped crying.

"Hey," I smile gently, giving her a comforting hug. She's still shaking slightly. "You okay?"

She nods. "What... what happens now?"

"We get you checked over by a doctor," I tell her. "Then you're going to get some nice hot food, and have a nap. And then..."

"And then you're going to get ready for your interview with Caesar Flickerman!" Tallulah interjects. Her voice rises throughout her statement, so she practically sings Caesar's name.

Annie's eyes widen with fear. She looks at me in disbelief. I place my hand on her shoulder.

"It's going to be fine," I say quietly, looking directly into her glistening green eyes. I stroke her cheek with my thumb.

She sighs.

"I don't want to see a doctor. I don't want them to touch me."

"I'll stay with you the entire time, if you want. I won't let anyone touch you where you don't want to be touched."

"Promise?" she whispers.

"I promise." I whisper back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Sorry that this chapter is a little late, I've been snowed under with schoolwork recently and haven't had the time to write it. Thank you again for the reviews! Please leave one, I'd love to hear what you think of the story :)**

Annie, Mags, Tallulah and I stand in a circle backstage, waiting for Annie to be introduced by Caesar Flickerman. It's time for her interview.

Annie wrings her hands and bites her lip as Tallulah feeds her instructions.

"Now, remember to smile, darling. Those people are all here to see YOU."

"Yeah, cause I'm the only one who made it out of the arena alive," mutters Annie, looking at the floor.

Tallulah sighs and puts her hands on her hips, as though she can't be bothered with all this nonsense.

"We don't have time to feel sorry for ourselves, Annie! Chin up, shoulders back, big smiles! Give extensive answers to Caesar's questions, don't just nod or shake your head."

With that, Tallulah flounces off in the opposite direction to talk to a small crowd of Capitol women who obviously have a very high status, abandoning Annie, Mags and I.

"I can't do it," Annie suddenly says, loud and clear. "I can't go out there."

She tries to walk back to her dressing room, but I hold my arm out to stop her. She looks up at me. Her sparkling green eyes are highlighted by the thick, black mascara that coats her lashes. I let out a tiny sigh. I wish they hadn't put it on her - she doesn't need it. She looks just as beautiful without it. She's wearing a small, floaty white dress that fits comfortably on her petite frame. I'm glad to see that her breasts are well and truly covered this time. I have no doubt that Annie is too.

"Yes you can," I say quietly but firmly, holding her gaze with my arms on her bare shoulders. I tuck a strand of her long red hair behind her ear, and stroke her cheek with my hand as it comes back down to her shoulder. Her eyes close as my skin makes contact with her face. She takes a deep breath and smiles weakly.

"Mags and I will be standing right here, waiting for you to come off. Don't panic, you've done this before, remember?"

Annie nods. I hug her tightly and breathe in the scent of her freshly washed hair. I realise that I don't want to let go. We stand there for what seems like minutes, holding each other, leaning on each other for support. When she finally pulls away, I can't help but feel disappointed.

"You'll be absolutely fine, Annie," Mags smiles, gently rubbing Annie's upper arm. Annie smiles back and nods.

The invisible audience give an almighty cheer. Annie gasps and jumps at the sudden noise. I put my hand on her back to steady her. My heart feels heavy, because I know that for a second there, in her mind, she was back in the arena, and that cheer was the sound of a canon blasting, signalling the end of another Tribute's life.

We're all quiet as we listen to a faceless Caesar Flickerman's voice.

"Here she is, everybody - Annie Cresta, the Victor of the 70th Annual Hunger Games!"

The crowd erupts all over again. Annie looks at me fearfully. I give a single nod, and gently push her in the direction of the stage with my hand. She disappears behind the curtain, and I watch on the backstage monitor as she climbs the three steps at the side of the stage and crosses the floor to reach Caesar and the two chairs that have been set up for the interview. She manages to smile shyly.

"Annie! Annie!" exclaims Caesar, throwing his arms around her. She returns the hug. He kisses her once on both cheeks before gesturing for her to sit down. The crowd do not quieten. Caesar has to bring his hands up to shush them. The interview begins.

Mags turns to me and speaks in a lowered, concerned voice.

"Finnick, I want you to tell me exactly what the doctors said about her."

I want to answer Mags' question, but I'm so distracted by the sight of Annie and Caesar talking on the monitor to reply.

"Don't worry about that, there'll be a repeat on TV later tonight!" Mags raises her voice and steps in front of the monitor. "Tell me, Finnick."

I sigh.

"She's fine."

"No, she's not."

"Yes, she is!" I stop myself. I hate shouting at Mags. I take a deep breath. "She's just... overwhelmed."

"Overwhelmed?"

"Traumatised. Traumatised, that's what they said, I think."

"But she will be okay? Eventually?"

I bite my lip. "They didn't say."

Neither of us speak for a few moments.

"Poor Annie," Mags says quietly, shaking her head.

"But it's okay," I continue quickly. I nod, even though my eyes are watering. "It's okay, because I'm going to look after her. We're going to look after her. Like you said, we're family now. We need to take care of her."

Mags nods in agreement. "She'll never be alone. She might be scared, or lost, or confused... but she'll never be alone. She'll be our Annie."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Sorry again for this chapter being posted a little later than usual. Yesterday I got offered an interview at a university I applied to so I was absolutely ecstatic and just couldn't calm down enough to write the chapter! Kisses to everyone who has posted a review, please keep them coming! :)**

After the interview, Annie, Mags and I head back to our apartment for our last night in the Capitol. Well, _their _last night in the Capitol. No doubt I'll be receiving a message from Snow sooner or later demanding that I return to offer my services to those derogatory women.

The three of us stand in the elevator as it takes us up to our floor.

"I want to go home." Annie breaks the silence. Her tone is sure, her voice strong. Such a contrast to the timid, shy girl who stood before me only a couple of hours ago biting her lip and wringing her hands.

"You will go home, Annie," I nod. "Tomorrow. All of us. All of us will go home tomorrow."

I take her hand, squeeze it, and offer her a smile. She slowly returns it.

"You mean it? Back to District 4?"

"Yep. Our hovercraft leaves at 10am, sharp. Isn't that right, Mags?"

"Absolutely," says Mags. She affectionately strokes some of Annie's long red hair behind her shoulder. "It'll be over soon, sweetheart, don't you worry."

XXXXX

That night, I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Trying to sleep is useless. I can't. I can't stop thinking about Annie and how she's going to adjust to life back in District 4 again. She's going to have to leave her home, and move into the Victor's Village with Mags and I. How will she feel about that? How will her family feel about that? Will they be happy with a new, spacious house or will it do nothing but serve as a reminder of what Annie went through?

Will she ever get better? Will she ever get over what happened in the arena? I doubt it. Memories like that don't just leave you. I should know. What if she becomes an alcoholic like Haymitch? Using drink to drown out the torturous thoughts about the Games, putting her life at risk simply to forget...

I won't let that happen. I'll take care of her. Proper care of her. But what if she doesn't want me to? We have a connection, we can both see that, and so can everyone else around us, but we're not a couple. Neither of us have said, "I like you" or "Let's be more than friends". We haven't kissed. We haven't talked about the possibility of a relationship back in District 4. Mostly because neither of us knew if she would make it back to District 4. But I can't just abandon her, let her go after everything that's happened. I don't want to. I don't want her to abandon me either. But I can't turn our friendship into something more, at least not now.

Snow would kill her, for one. No, he'd increase my duties in the Capitol and say if I didn't co-operate he would kill her. Everyone who has ever meant anything to me has been taken by that man. I don't want Annie to be taken from me too. But if I don't show her what she means to me, she might leave me herself, and I couldn't bear that.

I sigh. This is all so confusing. Annie is the first girl who I've ever pictured myself being with, and for a long time, not just a silly little fling. She's beautiful, and kind, and sweet, and gentle. The complete opposite of those vulgar Capitol women, who only want my body, not my mind or my soul or my heart. But I can't prey on an innocent, traumatised girl. What would people think? They'd say I was manipulating her, abusing her. A sick, twisted guy taking advantage of a poor young girl. That's what they'd say. A lump catches in my throat. I'd never hurt Annie. Never. I'd never force her to do anything she didn't want to, because I know exactly how it feels to be exploited like that. I don't want her for sex. I don't want her to dress up in racy lingerie and perform naughty dances for me. I just want _her_.

I pull back the thick, warm duvet and fish around the floor for my jeans. I stand up and put them on. I quietly open the bedroom door and make my way to the kitchen. _Maybe some tea will help me sleep._

The apartment is dark, the only light coming in through the windows, which casts a silvery glow across the place. I turn a corner and find myself in the living/dining/kitchen area of the apartment. My heart stops when I see a ghost sitting on one of the steps which connect the kitchen to the dining area.

Relief washes over me. It's not a ghost. It's Annie.

She's sitting on the step in her pyjamas. Her arms are wrapped around her knees. She has a vacant expression on her face as she stares directly in front of her. She's shivering and gently rocking back and forth. She's mumbling incomprehensible sounds.

"Annie?" I say softly. I don't want to startle her.

She doesn't reply. She doesn't turn her head, or acknowledge my presence in any way. She just keeps staring, keeps rocking, keeps mumbling.

"Annie?" I repeat as I slowly walk closer to her. Again, no response.

Something is wrong. I hesitantly sit down on the step next to Annie. I don't know if I should touch her. It might break her out of her trance, but at the same time, she might think someone is trying to attack her.

"No... no..." she mutters. She digs her nails into the back of her hand. "Please... no..."

Then I realise. She's sleeping. Her dream must have woken her up, and she sleptwalked out of her room and through here to the kitchen. I sigh with relief.

"Annie, Annie sweetheart, it's okay," I say in a calm voice. I place my hands on her upper arms and slowly start to stand up, gently pulling her up too. Eventually she stands but her glossy eyes widen and she makes more distressed sounds, as though she's on the verge of tears.

"It's alright, Annie, it's Finnick," I continue in my soothing tone. "You're sleepwalking, don't worry. I'm going to take you back to your room, okay? Back to bed. There we go."

It takes a while, but the two of us gradually make our way to Annie's room, her shivering and weeping, me guiding her with my arms, whispering reassuring phrases into her ear as we go.

Eventually we get there. I turn on the lamp beside her bed, then effortlessly pick her up and carefully place her fragile body down on the sheets. As soon as her head touches the pillow, her eyes flutter close. The mumbling and shivering stops. She's peaceful again.

I tuck her duvet under her chin and place a kiss to her forehead. Her lips part.

"Finnick?" She sounds panicked.

"Ssh," I soothe, stroking her smooth hair with my fingers. "I'm here, Annie."

The repetitive motion lulls her to sleep, like a child being sung a lullaby.

"Goodnight, darling," I whisper.


End file.
